


If I'd Only Been Faster

by bramblefae



Series: Dailisa Cousland [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1735865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bramblefae/pseuds/bramblefae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Warden mission goes terribly wrong, and Nate Howe finds Anders...and Justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I'd Only Been Faster

**Author's Note:**

> For some overlap, and for parts of this piece from Anders' point of view, you can read my story, The Holiest of Words. :)

Several weeks of palace life was making Dailisa soft. At least that's what she thought to herself as she came in from the practice yard, sweaty and dirty in well worn leathers. As she entered the entrance hall on her way through, she stopped short,seeing the back of Nathaniel Howe. She sternly told herself that she would not run to him, instead calling, "Nathaniel." The smile on her lips died when she saw his face.  
Nate Howe looked like he'd come straight from the Void itself without stopping. His already pale complexion was pallid and there were dark circles under his eyes. He seemed to swoon slightly and she did run to him, thinking him about to fall. She steadied him and said, worriedly, "What's wrong?! What's happened?"  
She watched Nathaniel's face as he seemed to search for words. Finally, he spoke hoarsely, "Justice has found a willing host."   
Dailisa blinked, surprised. "Willing? Well...that's good, isn't it? Who?"  
Nathaniel took a deep breath and seemed to steady some. "Anders." Dailisa pondered this for a moment.  
"Well. He *is* proficient with spirit magic and they are friends. What aren't you telling me?"  
Nate put a finger on her lips to silence her. "Did you know that Rolan was still connected to the templar order?"  
Dailisa narrowed her eyes, and took one step back from him, to get his finger off her mouth. "What do you mean, 'still connected'?"  
Nathaniel started to speak, then cleared his throat, obviously struggling with words. "He...he.."  
She grabbed Nate's arm in alarm. "What happened? Where's Anders?"  
Nathaniel stopped her then. "I don't *know* where he is, or he and Justice, or whatever they are now. The four of us were on assignment and Anders and Justice had been pretty seriously talking about things, since...well Kristoff's body...you know. I went out to hunt some as dusk fell because we were low on meat...and, honestly, to get some peace. I should have stay..."   
He shook himself and took several deep breaths before continuing. "After a few hours, I saw several templars go by-you can see the armor even in the blackest night, I swear-and I could hear Rolan's voice talking to them about Anders, calling him an abomination. I waited till they passed and started tailing them back toward the camp and then there was so much screaming and the night lit up."  
He stopped trying to control his shaking hands and his voice shook with them. " I ran, Commander, as fast as I could and when I got there, there was nothing left but body parts and blood and fire. It was awful. And I need to know if you want me to look for them."

  
**::**::**

Alistair had been told that there was a man in the entrance hall, so he went to see who it was. As he walked into the hall, though, he was filled with fear and immediately on its heels was white hot anger, because the man was Nathaniel Howe and the man was embracing his wife. Stroking her hair, right in the middle of the entrance hall. Sounding a good deal more calm than he felt, he said, "Nate."  
Dailisa turned to her husband-she'd been weeping, he noticed-and said, "Oh, Alistair, love, it's terrible." Without a thought, Alistair held his arms out and Dailisa came to him, burying her face in his chest, still weeping. He looked over her head and met Nathaniel's eyes. Howe looked rough and haunted, but spoke calmly enough. "There's been a...situation among the Wardens, Your Majesty." He then told Alistair what had happened.   
Feeling a bit sick, he addressed Nate. "You did right, coming straight here. Now, go get something to eat. I will send someone to you to show you a room. You need sleep, man. We will figure out how to handle this in the morning." Nathaniel nodded, then hesitated, obviously wanting to say something.  
"What is it, man?"Alistair asked, irritated.   
"I don't know how soon someone will be here to tell the Commander what's happened. But you should know that I am technically here without leave. I came here before even going back to the Vigil." As much as he wanted to hate Nathaniel Howe, he had to admire the man's moxy.   
"If anyone asks, I will assume I haven't seen you then, Nate."  
Howe shot him a grateful look, turned and was gone.

**::**::**

Nathaniel Howe was pacing back and forth in this guest room at the Palace. He'd been able to have a bath and get on some clean clothes that didn't smell of blood and fire. Someone had left him food, but even the thought made bile rise in the back of his throat. Time was wasting while he was waiting for the King to decide what he was going to do. Anders (and Justice!) was out there somewhere, maybe hurt, probably crazed, without a single friendly person. At the best of times, the mage was not suited to the outdoors, and this was certainly not the best of times.  
Nate stopped pacing when he heard a knock on the door. He walked to it and opened it to the King. He held the door open and stood aside for the man to come in, then shut the door behind him. He saw Alistair look at the untouched food, then at him.  
Alistair sat in a chair at the small table and motioned for Nathaniel to join him. Nate raised his eyebrows and debated for a moment ignoring the request but decided this was not the time to be petty. He *was* the King, after all.  
He sat, and Alistair said, "Denerim's Knight Commander is being "entertained" by my Uncle Teagan and Dailisa, right this moment, in my study while I deal with a "diplomatic emergency". Namely, you."  
Nate paled. "Is that wise, Your Majesty? To make Dailis..." Alistair cut him off.  
"You know her, man. You think *I* had any say in this? She's one of the most together people I've ever met. And she's running on pure shock. You know as well as I do, if she stops now, she'll fall to pieces and that one of us will pay for it somehow."  
Howe wanted to smile, but there was news here. "What does the Knight Commander say?"  
Alistair grew serious and Nathaniel watched him put on the persona of King Alistair and felt sort of sorry for the man.   
"He says that an apostate grey warden became an abomination and slaughtered a camp full of his fellows and some templars who were there to take him in." He grabbed Nathaniel's sleeve, preventing him from leaping out of his seat to protest. Nathaniel jerked his arm away and glared, but he also sat back in his chair.  
"Nate. You said yourself that the camp was decimated when you got there. Did you see Anders at all? Could Anders, alone, have done that much and that kind of damage?"  
"No." Nathaniel crossed his arms and glared at Alistair. The two men traded glares for several beats then Nathaniel came to some sort of decision.   
"I'm going to tell you something about Anders that I am not sure Dailisa even knows. I think he will forgive my sharing this, given the circumstances."  
Alistair nodded at him to go on. "He can rain ice and snow down in an area the size of your practice yard, Alistair. A blizzard the likes of which you've never seen, with enough precision to keep it exactly where he wants it, within an inch or so. He can keep this up for a good bit, if the need is on him. He can shoot lightning out of his hands and force it to play tag between as many targets as he needs. I have seen him breath life into someone I thought dead. I have seen him heal a gaping wound on my own leg with this blue light that comes from his hands."  
The king narrowed his eyes and said, "So he's a very powerful mage. You're not exactly helping his ca..."  
Nate interrupted him. "That's just it, Alistair. He can do all of these things, but he can't light a campfire. He can't call fire."  
Alistair looked skeptical. "At all?"  
"I've never seen him do it, and I've seen him exhaust himself trying. He did tell me once that when he was angry or scared beyond his contr....Oh Maker."  
Both men paled and Alistair spoke. "So, if he felt cornered, or frightened..."  
Nate shook his head violently, his unbound hair covering his face. "No! There was far too much carnage. If it had just been fire, but it was fire and...no! Anders could not have done that on his own."  
Alistair studied the other man for a moment. "Nathaniel, have you ever seen an abomination?"  
Nathaniel sat back again and narrowed his eyes. "I have not, Your Majesty." he said, stiffly formal. Alistair rolled his eyes.   
"Knock it off, Howe. I have a point with this."  
Nate's eyebrows went nearly to his hairline. "Well, do tell then, please."  
"My wife doesn't think he's capable either. And she's as convinced as you are that if he merged with Justice, it would have been done willingly and amicably. I have two questions for you."  
Nathaniel nodded shortly and the king went on. "If I were to explain to you what an abomination looked like, acted like-all my experience with them, would you be willing to not only lead the Knight Commander to believe you *had* seen them before, but to reassure him that this was not that kind of damage? Because regardless of anything else, Anders needs to be found by people who care about *him*. In essence, are you willing to lie to protect the mage? Do you trust enough that this did not go badly, that you'd be willing to protect him long enough to go looking for him?"  
Without hesitation, Nathaniel said, "Absolutely."   
Alistair nodded and then began talking to him about Kinloch Hold.

**::**::**

Nathaniel had been stalking a trail he thought was Anders for several days now. If it wasn't the mage, it was some other erratic, clumsy person in a hurry. It was nearly dusk and though he was in the Brecilian Forest, he thought he was not terribly far from the coast. He was still and hidden, thinking about whether he wanted to push on, hoping he could come upon the mage camped, or whether he wanted to catch a couple of hours of sleep when he heard a sound he couldn't identify. He found the direction of the sound and silently moved toward it.   
He'd gone about a hundred yards out when he realized what the sound was and he was filled with relief and heartbreak. It was Anders and he was weeping inconsolably.  
He stood up, so that he could be seen, and called softly, "Anders? It's Nate." The crying stopped abruptly and there was a sort of hesitant silence.   
"Anders. I've been scared shitless for you. Let me come to you."  
Nate heard the mage sigh and took that as permission to move toward him. Just as he saw the mage, sitting on a tree stump, filthy and scraped up, Anders looked up at him, his amber eyes glowing with a light like blue lightning. He said, dully, in a voice that managed to sound like both him and Justice, "Go away, Nate. You don't know what I've done."   
Nathaniel, who did not consider himself a religious man, commended his soul to the Maker, held out his hand to Anders and said, "Yes, I do. And I'm not going away."  
He kept his hand out, inwardly thankful that it wasn't shaking and Anders studied him for a few moments, then stood and clasped his hand in Nathaniel's as the glow left his eyes and he was, once again, just Anders.  
"Let's make camp, Anders. And figure out what's next."  
After the brief flurry of activity to get a rough camp set up, Nathaniel built a small fire, and he sat as near to Anders as the mage would let him. Nate himself was not an overly affectionate man, but he'd learned pretty quickly after joining the Wardens that Anders was deeply touch starved and he wondered occasionally if this was one of the side effects of living in the Circle of Magi, or if something had happened to Anders. Once he'd realized this, he'd taken to unobtrusively sitting close to Anders at camp or in the Keep and Anders slowly figured out that it was alright to touch Nate, either by sitting next to him, or close enough to reach out and pat him, or poke him, or what have you. Neither of them had ever said a word about it but both of them were aware of it. Nathaniel seldom initiated the touch but he never turned Anders away. That unspoken link of affection was the basis of their friendship and Nathaniel thought that if ever Anders needed that link it was now.  
"Nate?"   
The archer looked over at Anders. "Hmm?"  
Anders was shaking hard enough that Nathaniel could see it and could almost feel it. "I thought...I remember you leaving camp, but I couldn't remember if you came back or not. I couldn't remember...I was so afraid you were...that I had..." Nathaniel crawled over to Anders without a word and folded the mage into an embrace.  
"I'm fine, Anders. It's over no..." Anders pulled away and began to glow.  
He and Justice said, "And is Rolan...fine...?"  
Nathaniel closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. Rolan is not fine by any definition."   
He opened his eyes, letting Anders see his pain. "I tried to get to camp in time. I was not fast enough, Anders. I am sorry."   
Anders (Justice?) patted Nathaniel on the arm and said, "You are a good man, Nathaniel Howe."  
Anders stopped glowing and slumped over on Nathaniel, obviously exhausted. He mumbled, "It's true, you know." and fell asleep, or maybe passed out.   
Nate gently moved Anders to his own bedroll, and smoored the fire. He did not sleep though.

 


End file.
